


Hand in Hand

by toujours_nigel



Category: The Charioteer - Mary Renault
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-17
Updated: 2012-02-17
Packaged: 2017-10-31 07:52:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/341725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toujours_nigel/pseuds/toujours_nigel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The lighter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hand in Hand

Alec was waiting for him when he emerged into the street, immediately conspicuous against the trickle of patients slouching in and the mass of relatives hurrying out, the white jacket slung over his arm, something of the doctor lingering in his evaluating glance.

“Got your kit?” he asked, and, without waiting for an answer, “Well, come on, I’ve got to be back in two hours, and it’s a bit of a drive.”

Alec’s car was terribly, brashly modern, and a fair bit twee, and Ralph couldn’t help crooking an eyebrow in query. “New boyfriend?” None of his business who Alec went with, good Christ, but if he had to start watching his mouth around Alec he might as well take a vow of silence.

“God, no. Barely an acquaintance.” Alec pursed his mouth shut and took the bag from him in a brusque gesture that Ralph found almost unbearably familiar. Some things never changed; Alec had always been a secretive bastard.

He had been to the flat Alec had found him, a week before his discharge, to help shift his things in—though he had ended in simply watching for the most part, Alec playing the bullying doctor to irritating perfection—and Alec was very plainly headed in a different direction altogether. There _was_ a new boyfriend, he knew, no matter whose the car was, and wondered idly how it would feel to be the one who had to be gently eased out to avoid a scene. It wasn’t raining, at least; it had been, the morning they broke things off, and he’d been drenched walking to the bus-stop. Alec had changed homes since, they’d lived nearly next to the hospital.

Alec’s new flat was in a house that plainly believed in being imposing as a substitute for being aesthetically pleasing—the best that could be said for it was that it was large. The flat itself had clearly felt the hand of someone far more careful with decor than he or Alec—or than Alec had been. Ralph found the contrast between the exterior facade and the interior of the flat almost laughable, kept his mouth shut and nodded in feigned approval as Alec showed him in half-apologetically.

“Sit, I’ll get you a drink,” Alec ordered, shelving reluctance in favour of mock-intimidation, pushing him towards a low settee and locking the door. “I’ve something for you.”

That pushed him into a tired laugh, that Alec should feed him so very clichéd a line. It fit the farce of his prospects, he decided, to be propositioned in a room where he recognised about half the furnishings and none of the taste, by his... by Alec, of all people. “Have you any rum?” At least with alcohol, he would have an excuse for being maudlin; pity Alec knew his usual capacity, but he could plead hospital and long sobriety.

“For you?” Alec called from the depths of a cabinet, “always.” But very likely he had some luckily left over from a party, or the new boyfriend was partial to it.

Still, and for all Alec’s tendency to disguise the taste of alcohol, it was passable enough, and Alec’s shoulder against his as warming as the first swig. Alec’s mouth opened under his with momentarily gratifying ease. Then Alec was pushing him away, and Ralph realised too late that he’d put his claw on Alec’s cheek. Alec had loved his hands, once.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Alec snapped. “Of course, if you like.”

Doubtless in a few months that would more than suffice, but Ralph found himself balking still at the idea of an Alec who was simply compliant. There had been a time when they used to share stories about parties when they returned to Alec’s flat—he had never entirely liked how kind Alec had been; now he liked it less. “Too kind.”

“Ralph.”

“Skip it.”

Alec sighed, began saying something and abruptly changed his mind. He leaned against him, off-balance with a hand in his pocket and the other still propped on Ralph’s chest. “Here,” he said after a few seconds while Ralph tried to bring his face under control, uneasily aware he was presenting a blank mask. “It wasn’t a line.” He put a small box on the table, the brown paper covering taped neatly down.

“Alec.” 

“Don’t thank me before you’ve seen it. All you know, it might be...”

There was a lighter, nestled in the cotton lining the box; he opened it one-handed and worked the mechanism. “Alec.” It wasn’t, precisely, easy as yet, but he could see already that he would become efficient at using it, that at least this one small task would stop being a taunt. “Thank you.”

“For you, always.” Alec’s weight was a welcome pressure against his side. After a moment, Ralph wrapped his arm over his shoulders.


End file.
